He paused, counting three long breaths in and out, then he closed his eyes.
"Hell, yes."
Phoebe clasped her hands together, a huge smile breaking over her face. "Language, buddy."
"You started this."
She got up and started pacing, door to window, window to door. "But you really don't want to go to the concert?"
"It's not the right way, Phoebs."
"So where would she be today? Before the show? Think we can figure out which hotel she's staying at?"
"No. She'll be there under an assumed name."
Phoebe's eyebrows went up. "And there's no chance she would have picked a name that only you would figure out?"
"You really need to stop watching so many romance movies, hon. No, I would have no idea what name she might pick." Or if she'd even see me.
"One of the horses at Whisper Creek, maybe?"
Cooper laughed. "No. Definitely not."
"And we have a crap-ton of hotels in this city, anyway. Damn. No way we would find her in time." She looked at her phone. "Concert's in five hours. She's probably sitting in some gorgeous suite on the top floor downtown, longing for her Whisper Creek love. You can't let her just leave town tonight, can you?"
"I don't want to, but I'm not sure I have a choice, Phoebs."
"Somebody has to know where she is."
Cooper looked out the window, shifting so he could see past the brick next door to a little swath of green. It was one of the city's tiny parks, a hidden gem among tall buildings, and he'd sat here for a lot of hours wishing that patch of green was the kind of rolling, endless green he'd learned to love in Montana.
"What are you looking at?" Phoebe came to stand beside him.
"Just the little park across the highway. Breaks up the cement-and-brick view, if you lean just right. Helps me think."
"Charming." She rolled her eyes. "I don't want to be critical here, but time's ticking, and you staring out a window isn't getting you any closer to Ta-Shelby."
"I know." He sighed, then stopped his breath halfway out.
Holy-
"What's wrong? You look like you're about to have a stroke."
Cooper felt the edges of his mouth tip upward as a slow realization crept through his body. He nodded slowly, and the smile grew bigger as he tapped on the window frame with his fist.
Maybe Shelby wasn't in some downtown hotel suite.
No.
If she really wanted to see him, she'd be in the one place only he would look.
"Hey, Phoebs?"
"Scared to answer. Just saying."
"Want to go for a walk?"
"Depends. Why?"
He rolled his eyes, slapping a Sox hat on his head as he grabbed his room key. "True love, kiddo. Or something like it."
Chapter 30
Shelby picked a spot near the river-off the paved pathway and quiet enough to be heard, but still open enough to be found, if anyone was looking.
Please, Lord, let someone be looking.
She'd snuck out the delivery door behind the hotel, a city map in one hand and her guitar in the other. With her floppy hat and big sunglasses, she was pretty sure nobody would recognize her, especially if they were looking for Tara Gibson's dark hair and glitter, but her nerves were jumpy, all the same.
In New York, she'd made a pact with herself-throughout the remainder of this tour, she'd go out onstage as Tara, but she'd be damned if she was going to lose the Shelby she'd found over the past couple of months. And that meant she needed to play her music, on her terms, to her audience.
And just like when she was a kid trailing along behind her daddy, that would mean sneaking out of hotels in disguise, traipsing to the nearest little park, and playing for whoever happened by. If they stopped to listen, great. If they didn't, that was okay, too.
She wouldn't be playing for anyone else, after all. She'd be playing for a mom she still missed, even though that mom had died from her own selfish jealousy. She'd be playing for a dad whose voice she still ached to hear-whose voice she knew she would always ache for. She'd be playing for memories, for lost moments, for love.
She'd be playing for her.
She sat down on a metal bench, wishing she'd brought something to feed the ducks that waddled close, hoping for a handout. The sun was bright, but the breeze coming over the water made her shiver, even though it had to be in the eighties. The path was busy with runners and walkers and moms with strollers, and she left her guitar in its case, unsure she was really going to follow through with her plan.
Yes, she was out here in this park in a valiant attempt to stay connected with her own self. But in all honesty, she knew she was really out here in an attempt to connect with a man who had turned her entire being upside down in the span of less than a month. After all, if he knew her at all, he'd know to look for her offstage.